


Sleeves

by kiyala



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-02-22
Packaged: 2018-01-12 20:04:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1197738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Enjolras discovers that Grantaire has tattoo sleeves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Les Mis Tattoo Week](http://nothing-rhymes-with-grantaire.tumblr.com/post/76261372410/les-mis-tattoo-week-february-16-22)!

Grantaire has tattoo sleeves. 

Grantaire has tattoo sleeves that are becoming more and more visible as he rolls the sleeves of his shirt up and Enjolras' world comes to a crashing halt. He stops speaking entirely, while his mind becomes decidedly louder and he can't even make out _what_ he's thinking, because it sounds more like a constant whine than anything else. 

"Enjolras?" Combeferre prompts gently, brows drawn together in concern at the way that Enjolras has just fallen silent.

"Oh," Courfeyrac says softly, touching Combeferre's elbow and looking in Grantaire's direction.

 _Oh_ is an understatement.

Enjolras has known Grantaire for roughly three months and during that entire time, it has been cold enough that they've all been wearing long-sleeved shirts and jumpers. Of course, now the weather is finally warming up, which means that people are starting to wear clothes that aren't quite so warm. Or rolling their sleeves up.

Grantaire has always been stocky under his clothes and yes, okay, Enjolras will admit to looking. He'll admit to looking _a lot_ because Grantaire might not meet the usual, aggressively-marketed standards of beauty, but Enjolras has trouble looking away all the same. _He_ finds Grantaire attractive, but he's pretty good at ignoring that most of the time because Grantaire is also incredibly irritating and seems to enjoy antagonising Enjolras just for the fun of it.

"Are you alright, Enjolras?" Combeferre asks and fuck him, he's grinning at Enjolras' misfortune. The traitor. "You look a little flustered."

"Hey R!" Courfeyrac calls across the room, and Enjolras' heart skips a beat when Grantaire looks over at the three of them. "Nice ink!"

The grin that spreads across Grantaire's face is utterly devastating. Enjolras thinks he stops breathing for a moment. Grantaire's attention is mainly focused on Courfeyrac but then he looks at Enjolras too, and bites his lip even though it does nothing to stop him from grinning. "Thanks."

"Say something," Combeferre suggests.

"Shut up," Enjolras replies, physically turning his back to Grantaire so he doesn't spend the rest of the evening staring at those arms.

It doesn't exactly work the way he hopes it to. He spends the entire evening thinking about Grantaire's forearms instead, _wishing_ he could see them and wondering how far up the tattoos go. He's incredibly distracted and he knows it, but at least neither Combeferre nor Courfeyrac make any mention of it.

Grantaire leaves with Joly and Bossuet, calling out his goodbyes to the room and waving. The movement catches Enjolras' attention and he starts staring all over again, regretting the fact that he's not close enough to actually make out what any of the tattoos are, just the fact that his skin is covered in colourful ink. Enjolras would give a lot for a closer look.

Courfeyrac waits until Grantaire has left before laughing, nudging Enjolras with an elbow.

"Just when I think you can't surprise me any more."

"What?" Enjolras asks defensively.

"You _know_ what," Courfeyrac replies, shaking his head and still chuckling to himself. 

Enjolras admits to nothing. Then again, Combeferre and Courfeyrac are his two best friends. He doesn't even need to say a single word.


	2. Chapter 2

"Did you know that it takes an entire month for a tattoo to heal?" Enjolras asks, sitting down at the table that Combeferre and Courfeyrac have already claimed in the student lounge.

Combeferre and Courfeyrac exchange smiles. Enjolras huffs with irritation. " _What_?"

"You were researching tattoos," Combeferre says.

"I was curious," Enjolras replies, shaking his head. "There is nothing wrong with that. I even managed to learn something new. I didn't think that you would have an issue with that." 

"Oh, I don't have any issues with it at all," Combeferre replies, and he's still smiling. "Your sudden interest in tattoos doesn't happen to have anything to do with one of our friends, does it?"

"How is it a _sudden interest_?" Enjolras scowls. "I've only brought it up once."

"So far." Courfeyrac winks at him. "Besides, it was the first thing you said when you joined us. That means it's been on your mind for a while."

Enjolras pinches the bridge of his nose, but knows better than to deny it. "I'm just incredibly impressed, that's all. I mean, if it takes that long to heal, does that mean that he couldn't use his arms while they healed? I mean—"

"By _he_ , you mean Grantaire specifically, don't you?" Combeferre asks. He's wearing a smug expression and Enjolras hates the fact that he can feel his cheeks burning.

"Maybe I do," he replies. "Maybe I'm using Grantaire as a point of reference because he's the only point of reference I have."

"So you've never seen the watercolour tattoo that Jehan has on his back," Combeferre says.

"I…" Enjolras _has_ , only once, but he'd forgotten about it. Unlike Grantaire's tattoo sleeves, it hadn't stuck with him the same way. He hadn't spent hours thinking about Jehan's tattoo afterwards. Even he knows what that means. Judging by the looks that Combeferre and Courfeyrac are giving him, they do too. "…Oh."

"Oh," Courfeyrac echoes, then turns to Combeferre with a bright smile. "Our little Enjolras is all grown up."

"Being romantically interested in people has nothing to do with growing up," Enjolras dismisses. "I was nearly expelled in third grade because I told everyone that I was going to marry Combeferre and bit anyone who tried telling me otherwise."

Combeferre laughs quietly. "I remember that."

"Excuse you, _I'm_ marrying Combeferre," Courfeyrac speaks up with a possessive hand on Combeferre's. His face goes red. "I mean—"

Combeferre smiles, turning his hand over and linking their fingers. If anything, it only makes Courfeyrac blush harder. "I could see us doing that. In time."

"You could?" 

They're gazing at each other adoringly and Enjolras quietly picks his bag up and gives them some time alone. Only to run into Grantaire at the entrance of the student lounge.

"What are you doing here?" Enjolras asks, a little too loud and a little high-pitched because Grantaire is reaching out to steady him. Grantaire, with his rolled up sleeves and tattoos and damn it, now that Enjolras is looking, he can't _stop_ looking.

"It's the student lounge," Grantaire replies, raising an eyebrow. "I'm a student. I was planning to lounge. …You're not sitting with Combeferre and Courfeyrac?"

"They were having a moment," Enjolras says and he _still_ can't look away from Grantaire's tattoos. He can make out the planets—nine of them, he notes with satisfaction—tattooed on Grantaire's left forearm, an ouroboros circling his right wrist. He needs a moment. "I like your tattoos."

"Yeah?" There's a smile in Grantaire's voice and Enjolras looks up to find that it's there on his lips, too. "Want to see?"

"Yes," Enjolras replies immediately, beginning to walk out of the student lounge and hoping that Grantaire will follow. 

He does, rolling his sleeves up even further as he goes, but they don't leave quickly enough that they go unnoticed. Enjolras hears what sounds very distinctively like Courfeyrac snorting with amusement behind them. Grantaire must recognise it too, because he grins. Enjolras is certain that his cheeks are turning pink again, but Grantaire is kind enough not to comment.


	3. Chapter 3

Enjolras is in trouble. 

It's been two whole days since Grantaire had shown him the tattoos covering his arms and in those two days, Enjolras doesn't think he's been able to stop thinking about it even once. The worst part is that it's incredibly obvious when he _is_ thinking about it. His face will go warm and he can't get rid of his stupid grin whenever he remembers the way Grantaire had animatedly explained every decision behind every tattoo. He can't stop blushing every time he thinks of the way Grantaire had casually taken his button-up shirt off, wearing nothing but a tight black singlet underneath, to give Enjolras a better look, completely oblivious to the effect it was having. 

Grantaire has, as he'd told Enjolras, a space arm and a myth arm. His right sleeve is completely in grey wash, with the astronomical symbols for each planet on a dashed line to represent its orbit starting at his wrist and going up his forearm, then the rest of his arm covered in constellations, until they reach the stylised sun on his bicep. 

His left arm has an eagle wrapped around his bicep, brightly coloured in reds and oranges and Enjolras had mistaken it for a phoenix at first, until Grantaire had laughed and told him close, but not quite. It's the eagle from the Prometheus myth, and Enjolras is reluctant to say that he's fallen in love, but his feelings for Grantaire have grown incredibly intense over a very short period of time and it's making his head spin. The rest of Grantaire's left arm is covered in mythical beasts of all sorts, from dragons to centaurs to unicorns, ending with the ouroboros around his wrist. Enjolras had reached out and traced it with his thumb without thought, making Grantaire's breath catch. They'd both looked embarrassed by it and Enjolras wishes he could stop thinking about that too, of Grantaire's eyes wide, his cheeks pink, biting his lip as he grins. 

They'd talked for a good hour about Grantaire's tattoos and because that had made them so comfortable with each other, they'd then moved on to have their first proper conversation without devolving into an argument. Enjolras is hoping to have more. 

"I want a tattoo," Enjolras announces as he walks into the apartment he shares with Combeferre.

Courfeyrac, who is cuddling with Combeferre on the couch, squeaks loudly. 

"Okay, this is really important." Courfeyrac gets to his feet and clears his throat. "I want you to listen to me very carefully and think before you answer my question."

Enjolras frowns. "Okay?"

"Do you want tattoos," Courfeyrac says slowly, "or do you just want to fuck someone _with_ tattoos? And by _someone_ , I just want to clarify that I mean Grantaire."

Combeferre snorts quietly and Enjolras wonders when the hell he became someone who blushes all the fucking time, because he'd quite like it to stop. 

"Um." He carefully considers it, as Courfeyrac had requested. "…What if it's both?"

"What would you get tattooed?" Combeferre asks. 

Enjolras shakes his head. "I'm not telling you."

"Would you tell Grantaire?" Courfeyrac teases.

Enjolras shrugs. "Maybe, if he asked."

:·:

"So," Grantaire says at the end of their next meeting, walking over to Enjolras, "I heard that you were thinking of getting a tattoo."

Enjolras straightens the papers in his hands and promptly whacks Courfeyrac on the back of the head. 

" _Oww_."

Grantaire smirks and covers his mouth with a hand. "It was actually Combeferre who mentioned it."

Enjolras glares daggers at Combeferre, the absolute _traitor_. He doesn't even look repentant. 

"What were you thinking of?" Grantaire asks, and Enjolras needs to take a moment to marvel at the fact that over just a few days, they've grown comfortable enough with each other to have this kind of conversation. 

Enjolras puts his papers away and leads Grantaire across the room, so that Combeferre and Courfeyrac won't be able to hear. 

"I was thinking of some script, actually." Enjolras keeps his tone casual. " _Liberté, égalité, fraternité_. I'm not quite sure where, though."

"Mm, it would look great on your hip." Grantaire's gaze flicks down like he's imagining it and his hand twitches, like he's about to reach out and trace over the exact place. "Might hurt though." 

"I don't mind." 

Grantaire smiles slowly. "Didn't think you would. Were you thinking of getting it in colour?" 

"Maybe. I'm not sure. What do you think?" 

"Colour would be good," Grantaire replies. "Red, white and blue, one for each word. Well, maybe just a black outline of the word instead of white. All in one line. I like the thought of that." 

"Do you?" Enjolras is a little surprised. "I… thought you would laugh." 

Grantaire laughs softly, meeting Enjolras' gaze. "I think it would suit you perfectly. I really like it." 

"Oh." 

"Maybe think about it for a while, to make sure you really want it," Grantaire suggests with a small shrug. "But hey, if you do, let me know. I'll take you to my tattooist. Uh, if you don't mind me just inviting myself along like that—" 

"Not at all," Enjolras says quickly. "I appreciate it." 

:·:

Enjolras thinks about it. He thinks about Grantaire even more.

They grow closer over the following weeks and the group dynamic shifts slightly because of it. Enjolras notices that now, everyone seems just that little bit more relaxed. It's not that Enjolras and Grantaire stop arguing, but it definitely feels a lot less personal now. When they disagree, it's their views that clash, not their personalities. When they're not arguing, they actually get along incredibly well. It seems to surprise everyone and Enjolras has to include himself in their number. It's one thing to be flustered by Grantaire's physical appearance, but he finds that the more time they spend together, the more he genuinely likes Grantaire as a person. 

They bump into each other at a café near campus one afternoon, when Enjolras is planning to sit down with coffee and a book to kill some time, because Combeferre and Courfeyrac are back at the apartment. He quickly revises his plans, inviting Grantaire to sit down with him instead. They stay for hours, talking about anything and everything, until Enjolras notices the time.

"Shit, I was meant to go home and do some readings for class."

"I'll walk you home," Grantaire offers, getting to his feet. 

They talk the entire way to Enjolras' apartment and they linger in front of the door. Enjolras has his keys in his hand but he doesn't open the door quite yet, turning to Grantaire instead.

"This was fun, we should do it more."

"Yeah," Grantaire says softly. "We should."

He shifts a little, like he's about to lean closer to Enjolras, but stops himself and gives Enjolras a smile instead. "See you at the meeting tomorrow?"

"See you there," Enjolras breathes, watching as Grantaire turns around and walks away. 

"You're late," Combeferre comments as Enjolras walks inside. He's sitting at the dining table with his books. Courfeyrac's there too, wearing one of Combeferre's shirts.

Enjolras clears his throat. "I have a question for you both."

Both Combeferre and Courfeyrac look up questioningly.

Taking a deep breath, Enjolras asks, "Do you think that maybe Grantaire could be interested in me?"

Courfeyrac bursts into laughter. It could mean anything, but when Enjolras turns to them with a frown, Combeferre takes pity on him and nods. Firmly. Telling Enjolras that he's been missing something incredibly obvious, without even needing to speak. 

"Oh."

Enjolras walks to his room to get his books. Courfeyrac can't stop laughing. 

Ducking his head, Enjolras bites his lip and finds that he can't stop grinning.


	4. Chapter 4

Enjolras and Grantaire get into an argument. 

It's not exactly unusual, but Enjolras is keyed up and what should just be a small argument that neither of them take personally becomes much more than that. It starts off with a small disagreement during a meeting, but then it escalates and Enjolras has spent the last few days wondering how he can like Grantaire so much despite the fact that their ideologies differ so greatly and Grantaire is so determined not to believe in anything, and all of that comes bursting out of him at once, with the wrong tone and all the wrong words and Enjolras is left standing there, mentally panicking as Grantaire's expression twists into something angry and hurt and he's always been good with his words, Enjolras knows that and appreciates him for it, but he chooses them carefully now, to be equally cutting and the end of it, they're both left reeling and there's an uncomfortable silence as nobody else dares to break it.

"Okay, you know what?" Grantaire says to the room at large, rolling his sleeves up and gathering his things. "I think I'm done."

"Grantaire—" Enjolras calls after him, but all he gets is a frown and Grantaire is gone. He steps forward, ready to follow him, but Joly quickly stands up and stops him.

"I think you should let him cool down," Joly tells him seriously. "I think you both need to cool down." 

Enjolras runs his fingers through his hair and shakes his head and now that he can think clearly, he's wincing at the things that he said, things like, _I don't even know why you bother coming here if all you're going to do is tell us how wrong we are_ , and, _I don't think you're even capable of believing in one single good thing_. 

Combeferre takes charge of the meeting and quickly breaks it up, which means that most people are leaving as quickly as possible to leave the tension that still remains in the room. Enjolras sits at his table with Combeferre and Courfeyrac and sighs unhappily. 

"What do I do now?" 

"You wait," Combeferre tells him gently. "I don't think that either you or Grantaire are currently in the mood to talk things out, so you wait until you _are_."

"What if he stops liking me because I said what I did?"

Courfeyrac snorts at that. "I really don't think you need to worry about that, it's never stopped him before."

Enjolras' face goes ashen. "What have I said to him before I realised—"

"Don't think about it," Combeferre tells him. "Seriously, there is absolutely no point in beating yourself up about things that you can't change like that."

Courfeyrac nods in agreement. "Besides, the way that Grantaire feels about you… I don't think _anything_ could change that."

That makes Enjolras smile, if only slightly. "You think so?"

"I _know_ it." 

"Right. So I'll wait a while, and then I'll go find him and talk to him."

They both nod in approval. Enjolras tries not to feel nervous.

:·:

He doesn't see Grantaire for two days and when he does, he bumps into him in the line for coffee and isn't prepared at all.

"Fuck." 

Grantaire smiles without humour. "It's good to see you too. If you'll excuse me."

"Wait." Enjolras reaches out, wrapping his fingers around Grantaire's wrist to hold him in place. 

"Enjolras—"

"Don't walk away," Enjolras says quietly. "Don't avoid me. Please don't think that I like you less, just because we fought."

"We were getting along until I fucked up."

"You didn't fuck up," Enjolras tells him. "Not at all. I don't want you thinking that you did. I know that we've made better friends lately, but we fought before that and I'm starting to realise that we're going to fight _anyway_."

Grantaire frowns. "See?"

"Just listen to me." Enjolras takes a deep breath. "What I'm trying to say is that I don't mind. I like you anyway. We're going to fight in the future and I'm going to keep liking you. Okay?" 

Grantaire gives him a long, considering look before he finally clears his throat. "When you say that you like me…"

"I mean that I don't stop thinking about you. That the last two days were _hell_ because I wasn't talking to you and I didn't know when I'd talk to you next and—" Enjolras falls silent when Grantaire takes half a step closer. 

"I think we should do the rest of this when we're not in the coffee line," Grantaire says quietly, smiling.

Enjolras lifts his chin and says, "I think the coffee can wait." 

"My thoughts exactly," Grantaire replies and he slides his hand into Enjolras' as they walk out of the café and around the corner, so that they're out of the way. Grantaire rests his hands on Enjolras' side and pulls him close, so that their noses are touching. He draws a shaky breath and laughs quietly. "I've wanted to do this for a really long time."

"What, kiss me?"

Grantaire snorts. " _Yes_ , kiss you. Since the first time I saw you, I think." 

Enjolras takes a deep breath. "Love at first sight is—"

"Not a thing, sure, but I'm talking about something more like wanting you on top of me so I can run my hands down your sides and suck marks all over your neck." 

" _Fuck_ ," Enjolras gasps, leaning into Grantaire a little further. They're standing chest to chest, but their lips aren't quite touching yet and they need to fix that. Enjolras wraps his arms around Grantaire's shoulders and pulls him close, until their lips are pressed together gently and Grantaire hums happily, kissing back a little harder. 

They kiss for a long time, tentatively licking each other's lips until they open their mouths and let their tongues slide against each other. Grantaire's mouth tastes wonderful and Enjolras doesn't think he's ever going to get enough of it.

A cough nearby reminds them that they're still in public and they pull apart with sheepish grins and glistening lips. Grantaire kisses Enjolras' forehead gently. "We should move somewhere a bit more private."

"Like your apartment," Enjolras suggests. "I'm not saying we're going to do it _right now_ , but I do want to hear more about the way you imagined me on top of you."

Grantaire laughs, taking Enjolras' hand. "I have a lot to say on the matter."

"Well," Enjolras lets his gaze linger on Grantaire's inked arms. "I might be able to match you. We'll have to find out."


	5. Chapter 5

They've been dating for a month when Enjolras goes over to Grantaire's apartment, greeting him with a kiss and, "I'm all healed."

Grantaire kisses him again and grins. "Yeah?"

"Do you want to see?" Enjolras asks, not waiting for an answer before he places his hands on Grantaire's sides and slowly walks him backwards, into his apartment, and shuts the door behind them. 

Grantaire pushes Enjolras back against the door to kiss him hard and, well, kissing is distracting. Kissing Grantaire makes Enjolras' mind just shut down and forget everything else for a while. Grantaire, however, has a goal and he sticks to it. He pushes Enjolras shirt up enough to have a look at the tattoo on his hip. 

"Oh," Grantaire breathes. "It looks amazing."

Enjolras smiles, looking down as well. Grantaire brushes his thumb across the stretch of skin and Enjolras' breath hitches. Grantaire does it again, slower this time, and presses another brief kiss to Enjolras' lips before getting on his knees.

"Grantaire…"

"Just having a closer look," Grantaire murmurs, but his grin says otherwise. His hands settle on Enjolras' hips and his thumb brushes over the tattoo once again. He kisses it, then licks the skin.

" _Grantaire_." Enjolras squirms, burying his fingers in Grantaire's hair. He whimpers quietly when Grantaire trails kisses across his navel. "Get up."

"It's no different to what you do to my arms," Grantaire points out, looking pleased with himself as he gets to his feet. 

"I know," Enjolras murmurs, pulling Grantaire into a hard kiss. "I just want to move to the bed first."

" _Oh_ ," Grantaire breathes, taking Enjolras' hand and leading the way.

In the month that they've been together, they haven't had sex yet. They were happy to take it slow at first, and then when Enjolras had his tattoo done, they decided to wait until it healed. It was fine at the beginning, back when simply having their arms around each other and kissing each other was more than enough. Lately, however, their hands have been wandering and Enjolras has been impatient for his tattoo to finish healing, so they don't have to wait any longer. 

It's helped that they've both been busy lately, that school has kept them busy and that Enjolras has been planning an upcoming rally. Right now, however, Enjolras doesn't want to think about any of that. He just wants Grantaire in bed and finally, _finally_ , they're in Grantaire's bedroom, pulling each other into a kiss as they move towards his bed. 

Grantaire sits on the edge of the bed and Enjolras climbs into his lap, kissing him again. He tugs Grantaire's shirt off, dropping it to the floor. Grantaire grins up at him, catching the way Enjolras' gaze roams across his bare chest.

"I feel like I'm being objectified," Grantaire comments. 

"Not at all," Enjolras replies, running his hand down Grantaire's chest. He brushes his thumb over one of Grantaire's nipples, smiling when Grantaire's breath hitches. "Trust me, my appreciation has everything to do with the fact that it's _your_ body. You're more than just a nameless, faceless—"

"Enjolras," Grantaire cuts him off with a gentle kiss. He's smiling fondly as they pull apart. "I know." 

With a quiet huff, Enjolras kneels up to take his weight off Grantaire. "You should lie down on the bed properly."

Grantaire does, shuffling backwards so he has more space. Enjolras crawls on top of him, holding himself up on all fours. Grantaire slides his hands under Enjolras' shirt, pushing it up until Enjolras has to lift his arms and take it the rest of the way off. As he does, Grantaire starts undoing his own pants and Enjolras follows suit, until they're both naked and kneeling in front of each other on the bed. Enjolras' gaze drops to Grantaire's cock, hard and flushed, and he wets his lips, his mouth suddenly dry. Then Grantaire reaches down, wrapping a hand around the base of his own cock, and Enjolras hums in appreciation of the sight before him, Grantaire's colourful sleeve, his fingers wrapped around his cock, squeezing gently. Reaching out, he trails his fingers over the ouroboros before trailing his fingers up over the back of the unicorn, the hydra, the centaur. He wraps his fingers around Grantaire's bicep, around the outstretched wings of the eagle there, and pulls himself closer. 

"Touch me," he whispers, before Grantaire can ask for permission. 

Grantaire is tentative all the same, wrapping his fingers around Enjolras' cock and stroking slowly. He's emboldened when Enjolras moans softly, his touch growing firmer. Enjolras leans in for a kiss and wraps fingers around Grantaire in return. They moan into each other's mouths at the slow slide of each other's hands over their cocks, until Grantaire pulls back, panting softly. 

"I really want you to fuck me," he whispers, his eyes bright, pupils blown. "Please, Enjolras—"

"Yes," Enjolras murmurs eagerly. "I want to."

Grantaire reaches for the bedside drawer, pulling out a pack of condoms and his bottle of lube. He places them on the bed and lets Enjolras push him to lie down again. 

Pouring the lube into his hand, Enjolras slicks his fingers, pushing Grantaire's legs further apart. He rubs his thumb over Grantaire's perineum, smiling at the way it makes his hips jerk. He circles his index around Grantaire's entrance. "Tell me if you need me to slow down."

Grantaire nods, hooking an arm under one of his knees to spread his legs even further. Enjolras slides a finger into him, watching Grantaire's expression carefully and waiting for him to relax before adding a second. He curls them experimentally and Grantaire gasps loudly, making Enjolras go still.

"No, fuck, don't stop." Grantaire's hips jerk and he digs his fingers into the bedsheets. "That was good. Please."

Enjolras sighs in relief and repeats the action, slower this time. Grantaire groans in appreciation, turning his face into his pillow. "Fuck, yeah."

Carefully adding a third finger, Enjolras continues slowly, carefully, until Grantaire is arching against the bed and whimpering softly.

"Need you, Enjolras, _Enjolras_ , you're killing me here." Grantaire reaches blindly for the pack of condoms and Enjolras picks it up, opening it and taking one out. 

His hands are trembling as he tears the wrapping and slides it on, slicking himself with more lube. A glance at Grantaire's expression shows that he's nervous too and they exchange small smiles as Enjolras leans over to kiss him.

"Okay?" 

"More than okay," Grantaire replies, resting a hand on the nape of Enjolras' neck to keep him close. 

Enjolras thrusts into him slowly, pausing halfway through to let Grantaire adjust. They both gasp softly when Enjolras is all the way in, their hips meeting. Grantaire wraps both arms around Enjolras' shoulders and neither of them move for a moment as they get used to this. Enjolras turns his face to the side, to kiss Grantaire's arm, fingers tracing the shapes that he's already grown familiar with. 

Grantaire rocks his hips gently, wordlessly asking Enjolras to start moving. With a kiss to Grantaire's brow, Enjolras thrusts gently. Grantaire wraps his legs around Enjolras' waist, pulling him closer, deeper, and moans as Enjolras' angle shifts slightly. 

"Right there, Enjolras, please," Grantaire begs, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. "Please—"

"I've got you," Enjolras murmurs, speeding up his thrusts a little, making Grantaire moan again, even louder this time. He starts stroking Grantaire in time with their thrusts, reducing him to a broken, whimpering mess. Grantaire is clinging to Enjolras, chanting his name desperately. Enjolras fucks him harder, face pressed to Grantaire's neck. "Come for me, Grantaire. Let me see you. Please."

Grantaire arches off the bed as he comes, spilling into Enjolras' hand and clenching down on him. They both moan loudly and Grantaire holds onto Enjolras to keep him from pulling away. Enjolras kisses him, thrusting a few more times before he comes as well with Grantaire's name on his lips.

They're slow to pull apart, wrapping their arms around each other and kissing slowly before Enjolras gets up to throw his condom out and Grantaire gets a towel for them. They lie in bed together and Enjolras hums with a smile as Grantaire wraps an arm around him. He snuggles into Grantaire's side, tracing a finger over the constellations the span across his upper arm. 

Grantaire huffs in amusement. "You're never going to tire of that, are you?"

"Never," Enjolras replies, kissing along Grantaire's jaw. 

"Well, I guess I can't really talk," Grantaire murmurs, stroking Enjolras' hip with his free hand. "I'm going to hold you down one day soon and trace every letter of your tattoo with my tongue. And then I'm going to suck you off."

"Oh," Enjolras breathes. "I like the sound of that."

Grantaire grins. "I thought you would."

"I want to do that to you too," Enjolras tells him. "I want to kiss every tattoo, every single stretch of skin."

"I really don't know what I did to deserve you," Grantaire murmurs. "But I'm _incredibly_ glad I did it." 

Enjolras smiles, wrapping his arm around Grantaire and kissing him hard. "I'm extremely glad to have you, too."


End file.
